Does it hurt?
by ohcomely23
Summary: Takes place during season 1, a few months after the boys have started hunting. Sam h/c and angst, wise-ass and caring Dean. This is my first Supernatural fiction. Tis my favorite show. I am not worthy.


"Ghhhh…. Dean. Think… I'm gonna pass out," Sam murmured, his voice running out of air at the end of the statement.  
He took a deep breath through his nostrils in an attempt to quell the lightheadedness, but the pain… it felt as if something was trying to claw its way out of his skull.

"Sam, Sam-Sam-Sam." Dean was in front of him now, although hadn't he just been across the room? Sam blinked at the blurry form of his brother.  
Dean's hand was on his jaw, clasping and angling Sam's face to meet his eyes. It seemed that Dean was trying to make eye contact with him, and Sam was sure Dean was asking him something. Sam was aware that he was talking, but he felt… he felt… The pain in his head was dulling, and his vision was tunneling.

He tried to make eye contact with Dean and became aware of a scrape just above his older brother's left eyebrow.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, and then he promptly lost his fight with consciousness.

****  
A simple hunt among many, the past few weeks had been a blur of cheap motels, lame insults, and seedy pool halls. And in regards to the hunts, the boys had fared incredibly well, more so than usual. It had only been three months since Jess had died, since the boys had reunited and resumed hunting, but it was like riding a bike. Dean and Sam complimented each other; where Dean was strong and impulsive, Sam was intelligent and calculating in his moves. Sam moved with the poise of a hunter born into the life, and he very well had been. The two of them together- God, it felt good. Dean wouldn't say it to him, but it felt so damn right to have Sam back. Hunting with John… it was intense and methodical and professional. They were machines, occasionally men, but never really family. But Sam… Around Sam, Dean wasn't just a hunting partner as he was with John.  
He was a big brother again.

***  
Dean wiped the sweat from his brow, unable to stop the grin from spreading on his face.

He and Sam had gotten a bit more knocked around than usual on this one, and man, he'd wanted to hurt that ol' fugly when it'd gotten its claws into Sam, but hell, that just made this win all the more rewarding, empowering. Dean didn't have control over a lot of things in his life. He didn't know where his dad was, didn't know where old yellow-eyes was.. but this, this he did. He knew how to kill, how to salt and burn, how to hunt, and he was damned good at it. This was when Dean was most in his element.

"Woo, Sammy, did you see that move I pulled there? Ol' fugly never knew what hit him." Dean pantomimed the last moment of battle, recalling his yell for Sam to drop, his beheading of the thing. Sam was generously pouring lighter fluid on the creature's remains, but the kid looked a bit green around the gills for Dean's liking.

"You okay there, tiger?"

Sam hummed in answer, lighting a match and tossing it onto the carcass. His gaze never once left the flame; his pupils seemed transfixed, dancing along with the fire.

Dean watched as Sam raised his hand towards the orange waves. Frowning, Dean took a step towards Sam.

"Sam?"

"She must have felt it."

"What are you talking about?" Dean's voice sounded rough even to his own ears.

Sam lifted his hand towards the flames, extending his flesh into fire. His eyes were wide and transfixed.

"Sam—Sam, no!"

Dean rushed toward his brother just as his knees folded a bit, and were it not for Dean lunging toward Sam, he would have stumbled face-first into the fire. Sam was still standing on his own accord, but he was still watching the fire with a look that was unsettling at the very least. Dean grabbed Sam's left hand, the one he'd extended into the fire. It was red and raw-looking, painful. Dean cursed.

"Ghhhh…. Dean. Think… I'm gonna pass out," Sam murmured.

"Sam, Sam-Sam-Sam." Dean used one hand to support Sam, the other to clasp onto his jaw and angle Sam's gaze to meet his. He hadn't even seemed to notice his hand. What had Dean missed? Had Sam been more seriously injured during the throwdown? Head-injury flashed in Dean's mind.

"Let's sit down, Sam."  
God, the way Sam watched the fire…

"Sometimes, I want to give into it. I think… I think maybe it wants me. I think it's always wanted me, Dean." There was an odd quality to Sam's voice.

"What are you talking about?"

Dean's pulse was pounding, and he became briefly aware of a smidge of red creeping down Sam's hairline. That settled it—definitely a head injury.

"The fire, Dean. Jess must have felt it. Mom felt it. I know it. Both of them… both of them."

"Okay, Sasquatch. Enough of that- come on, let's sit down." Dean tried for easy and casual, the complete opposite of what he was feeling. But Sam was fixed in place. He tilted his head back toward the fire, and Dean forcefully used his hand to turn Sam's face back towards his. Sam looked at Dean with startling clarity, finally meeting his eyes.

"I wish it had taken me instead," Sam said, mater-of-factly. And it was something about the way he said it that deeply disturbed Dean. In this dazed… whatever that Sam was in, it was still said with an air of certainty, said in a way that left no doubt that this was something Sam had thought about before, had thought about often. I wish it had taken me instead.

"I'd die for her. I wish I could die for her."

Sam looked up towards Dean's… eyebrows? At this point, Dean had Sam tight by his jacket, forcing him away, away, away from the fire. Something inside of Dean broke; his heart was pounding from the adrenaline, but to hear his baby brother speak so calmly of his desire to die. He wanted to shake him. Hit him. Because Sam was everything, everything, to him. How could he discard his own life so casually?

"Does it hurt?" Sam asked, referencing a gash or something on Dean's eyebrow but being ever-the-probing little fucker even without realizing it.

"Yes, Sam. It hurts."

Sam went limp, and Dean caught him.


End file.
